Consumed by Wrath: An FBI/Romance Thriller (An FBI/Romance Thriller ~ Book 8) (36 page)

BOOK: Consumed by Wrath: An FBI/Romance Thriller (An FBI/Romance Thriller ~ Book 8)
11.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

First, her eyes went to Elizabeth, and then the man beside her. “Hello, sir. What can I do for you?” she purred, moving closer.

Elizabeth wanted to toss her cookies. She had seen this song and dance plenty of times before. Yeah, her husband was sexy, and women liked
looking at him and Callen. If anything, this proved that the woman was a walking hormone. Now, she didn't need to doubt the gardener. This broad was a definite man chaser.

Blackhawk led, since she was focused on him. Hopefully, his wife could refrain from kicking the older woman’s ass. He glanced at his wife and the lifted eyebrow.

There was sign number one that the Tyrannosaurus Lyz was close to stopping in for a snack. Thank God that he was wearing washable clothes and not his suit. Blood stains were a bitch to get out.

“Yes, my name is Director Ethan Blackhawk and this is my partner, Director Elizabeth Blackhawk. We’re here to talk to you about your husband.”

She stared first at the man, and then the badge and gun on his hip. “You found him?” she asked.

Elizabeth honestly believed that the woman sounded sad that it was a possibility. It spoke volumes of the
relationship they had together, and helped their motive along. Unhappy wife meant a dead husband, in quite a few of their cases.

Where there was smoke, there was fire.

“No, ma’am,” stated Blackhawk.

She headed towards a stall. “Good. I just spent a small fortune to declare him dead. I want to move on with my life.”

Yeah, that was a tad bit chilly.

Heartless.

Cold.

And possibly bitchy.

“We need to ask you about the day that he went missing,” Ethan said, following her as she crossed over to a stall.

“He went to a meeting for the council. Jefferson sent me a text
stating that he was cleaning up and heading home shortly. I finished up what I was doing, and waited for him. He never showed.”

Elizabeth went there. “What were you doing?”

She stared at the woman. “I had company. I was working on networking with other townspeople.”

It took everything to not laugh.
Oh, she was doing someone alright, but Elizabeth doubted that she wanted her husband to find out.

The woman
stroked the stallion behind her, running her hands over him appreciatively. “Jefferson had his loves in life, and I have mine.”

Yeah, no doubt.

“When he didn't come home, I assumed he stopped for something to nibble on after work, and I don’t mean a sandwich,” she stated.

Both Blackhawks glanced at each other. The woman wasn’t shy in pointing out that there was a whole lot of dual infidelity going on.

Since she went there, Elizabeth was going to take a trip down cheaters lane too. “How many snacks were you supplementing your marriage with, Mrs. Harris?”

The woman didn't look insulted
. In fact, she looked proud. “As many as I could. I like sex, Director. Just not with my husband. He wasn’t exactly exciting in bed. When he did feel like putting out, he only liked it one way. Let’s just say that it took up only a few minutes of my time, and always ended in a fizzle.”

They got the hint.

“My husband got himself a side piece, so I took a play from his book and followed suit.”

Elizabeth was astounded that the woman
was gloating. “Who has the money in the marriage?” she asked.

The woman’s face changed
, and then the cool southern belle was back in place. “It was his, but I guess it’s all mine now.”

Yeah, lucky her.

“Men are like a box of tissues to me. You grab one, blow, and then discard.” She ran her hand down the sexy Native’s arm. “I feel a cold coming on.”

Ethan jumped in and took it elsewhere. Both women looked ready to go at it. He didn't want to see his pregnant wife kicking the shit out of an older woman
for hitting on him. Then, there would be paperwork, and that put a damper on his evening plans.

“Did Jefferson have anyone that was bothering him
, or was there anything that happened to alarm you as to his disappearance?”

“Not particularly. We had a trespasser, but he handled it.”

Elizabeth made notes. “Did you call the police?”

She shrugged. “My husband did. I wasn’t home at the time,” she stated.
“But I’m sure it was nothing, so I doubt that it’s connected. I don’t even know why I felt compelled to bring it up.”

“How about any
of the members on the town council?” Ethan asked, hoping for clarification on the Denton Kline matter.

“Director,” she said,
walking her fingers down his bicep. “We didn't talk about my horses, his council, or our dalliances. Surely, you understand that as a big strong man, the male needs his secrets, and so does a lady.”

Elizabeth began looking around frantically
, drawing their attention.

“What are you doing?” Mrs. Harris stated
, taking in her erratic motions.

“I was looking for the lady you were discussing.”

The woman went red and Ethan struggled to not laugh. It was very reminiscent of the first time that he watched her in action. It was good to see that some things would never change.

“Now, how about you tell me about you and your husband’
s domestic disputes? I hear that they were knockdown and drag out.” She took a chance. “For the record, they’re the talk at the sheriff’s station. At first, I didn't believe it, since gossip is ugly, but now that we know you were both cheaters, I see it.”

She fumed
and lost her temper. Gone was the southern belle, and in her place was the irate diva. “He said that he wasn’t going to put them on the record!”

Gotcha!

The woman fought for composure. “All couples fight. Sometimes, ours were a little spirited. Haven’t you ever had a fight with someone and it got out of control?”

She didn't say anything, since her life wasn’t this woman’s business. When Ethan moved closer to her, she knew what he was thinking. The last four months
had been a stressful, trying time for their whole family, and they had a few arguments that went down in the record books.

Hopefully, those days were gone.

“My husband had a violent temper, but I guess that doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Neither Fed spoke.

“I’d rather stop discussing him. What’s done is done.”

“We appreciate you talking to us, Mrs. Harris,” Blackhawk said, as he placed his hand on his wife’s lower back.

Elizabeth just smiled at her husband. This had been a very interesting trip. When they got back to the station, there was a little digging to do.

“Thank you for your help, Mrs. Harris. We will be back,” Elizabeth stated. “Bet on it.”

As they walked out, Blackhawk was laughing. “You love your job.”

“Oh, there are days when it’s
the highlight of my life.” Then, she looked behind him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Elizabeth patted him on the ass. “Just checking out one more thing that brightens my day.”

Blackhawk
couldn’t help but find his wife amusing. “There are some days when you’re just too much.”

“Preaching to the choir, Cowboy. Now, how about we rendezvous with our team and grab us some lunch.”

“Works for me,” he said, as they walked back down the drive to the rental. “In fact,” he said, dropping his arm over her shoulder. “Do you want to know what the highlight of my day is?”

“What?” she asked.

“Being your partner, and I don’t just mean in the FBI.” This time, he patted her ass.

She grinned. “
Cowboy, I aim to please.”

 

 

 

Friday Late Afternoon

 

 

 

Once more, they headed to the café to grab lunch, since there weren’t really that many options in town. Besides, Elizabeth was in love with the crab cakes, and swore that she would die without them.

So, in order to keep her alive, n
either man was willing to test her theory.

When everyone arrived, they found that they were one person short in their group. Tyrell had opted to head home, since he needed to catch a few hours sleep before going on duty.

Since all the booths were gone, they had to slide two tables together to sit beside each other. As usual, both men flanked Elizabeth protectively.

“Okay, let’s order our food and then talk shop. I want to hear what we all dug up on the potential victims.”

Waving the waiter over, Elizabeth smiled sweetly at Brandon. He looked less than happy to be dealing with her again. It only made her day. If you didn't like annoying people, it was probably best not to work in the service industry.

After Elizabeth ordered, both men picked the same thing. Apparently, they were going back to the
‘only eat what she can eat’
thing for the pregnancy, or maybe they didn't want to admit that those were some spectacular crab cakes. Why should they be left out of the fishy fun?

When their drinks came, she pointed at Cyra. “You’re up first.”

She pulled out her notes and prepared to begin her report. “First off, you don’t want to go to the pig farm. The smell is putrid.”

She began laughing. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I sent the newbies there. Think of it as more hazing at its finest.
That farm has been around for a long time.”

Agent Austin stared at her, contemplating what to say back.

“Darlin’, have you not learned anything yet? Spit it out.”

Cyra had seen her fiancé tease Elizabeth many times
, and she always wondered if she would get to that comfort zone with her. She looked at her trainee. “Cover your ears.” It was now or never.

Harper Stanton did just that.

“Chris is right. You’re such a bitch at times.” There was that pause, and that momentary second where she thought she may have crossed the line. Suddenly, Elizabeth grinned and offered her a fist bump.

“Only because you’re marrying
Chris, but that was a good call on making the newbie cover her ears. Pretty damn funny too.”

Cyra instantly
relaxed and elbowed her partner.  “When we pulled up, we were promptly held at gunpoint.”

All three directors stopped smiling.

“What?” Elizabeth said.

“Oh, you would have loved being there,” stated Cyra. She told them about the shotgun and finally the racial slurs
towards Native Americans.

Elizabeth crossed her arms. “This is why I hate people most of the time,” she stated, as both men ran their hands over her
thighs. It helped calm her considerably. “Okay, so she’s a gun toting bigot. What else?”

Cyra went into report mode and dished it all. She told them about the
Maxwell Steppapaw incident and how the council wanted Duke Williams to close down and sell his farm.

The three watched intently.

“I think that gave us a good jumping off point,” stated Cyra. “We can check up on that lead.”

Callen interjected. “Well,
we got the dirt on our potential victim, and even went through all his effects. There’s nothing he left behind for us to use to locate him, but we too, had a run in with a potential Native suspect,” he stated, and then began to tell them about the sacred burial grounds and Herman Peterson tromping around there.

Once he brought it up, everyone at the table who got
it, sucked in a quick intake of breath. 

“What?” Cyra said. “So? He was taking pictures of all the tombstones.
I’ve done that when I’ve come across an old cemetery.”

Elizabeth
genuinely liked Cyra, so she opted to explain it to her. “There’s a cultural difference there. When Natives bury their dead, they wait until they pass over into the spirit world. No one knows how long or when it will happen, so rarely does a Native go back.”

She thought back to all the times they went to them to visit Timothy. Since they knew he didn't cross yet and wa
s with them, they continued to visit. After Circle Rock, from what her husband had told her, Timothy made it clear in Ethan’s last dream that he was waiting to cross with him. For now, no one felt him or heard the wind chimes, so they assumed he was gone.

“I’m betting
that he didn't ask permission to be there, and that was his first big mistake. The second error of his way was touching anything that the family left on the grave, like beads or feathers. They’re there to send the spirit off into the next life in peace.”

Ethan and Callen both kissed her on the cheek. Since marrying into the family, she had been trying to immerse herself in the culture.

Callen continued, “Had he asked to do a story about the grounds, he would have likely been permitted. The offense was just tromping in there. Natives have lost so much of their identity to outsiders that they cling to the littlest pieces of respect that they have left.

Other books

Falconer's Trial by Ian Morson
Hotel Mirador by Rosalind Brett
Carrying the Rancher's Heir by Charlene Sands
A Trusting Heart by Shannon Guymon
Stormchild by Bernard Cornwell